Tarabot
by ToiletWater
Summary: Maybe temporary title. AU. After returning to sanity, Willow builds a robot version of Tara to help herself cope. Of course, she's not the same. Nothing will ever be the same, but when the Scoobies receive a special present, will it turn out to be better?
1. Chapter 1

_When she opened her eyes, she realized they had been closed. It had just been one moment she was standing, and then the next she was on the ground with her eyes shut. Well, opening. _

_"Willow?" she called, standing with ease she didn't think possible; "What happened?" she looked around the room, seeing that it was dark and she saw nothing remotely close to her girlfriend, however in one corner of the room there was Dawn. She didn't look like she was doing so well, actually. "Dawnie, what's the matter?" she tried to remember. There was blood, wasn't there? Willow. "Is Willow okay?"_

_The brunette acted like she couldn't hear her, wavering in her breathing and desperately trying to keep from just breaking into a sob; "You know," she stuttered, not speaking easily and fluently; "when you two broke up, it really scared the hell out of me."_

_"What do you mean?" she tried to ask softly, though she was already starting to answer._

_"I knew you would still be there for me...but I was scared because I didn't know what was going to happen. You two, together, were the only solid thing I had right then..." she wiped her face, sniffeling terribly. She seemed like she had been crying a long time... _

_"Dawnie, why are you talking like this? What's going on?" finally, she turned her head in the direction she was looking. Her eyes widened with shock at the sight of herself on the floor, and a rather nasty bullet wound if she had to say. Even if it was breathing, she was dead...she knew she had to be. "I get it." she sighed sadly. _

_"I guess I'm really poor company," the teen trembled. "But I really didn't want you to be alone." _

_"No, no, you're not..." she attempted comforting the brunette, putting both hands up to her shoulders. They went right through. Tara looked back to her body. Maybe there was a way she could get back into it. She just...couldn't understand, where did that bullet come from? How could she be dead? She approached it, more floating than walking, but taking steps anyways- as was habbit. The blonde laid with her body, molding herself into it, every inch. She inhaled, trying to become one with it. Solidify. Then she stood, waiting to feel the weight of her body with her- rather expecting to._

_No such luck. She didn't know why she had expected it to. _

_"Where did Willow go?" she was still asking her questions out loud, although she knew she couldn't really expect an answer. She shook the thoughts away, and walked towards the teen, who had just gone into a chant of 'you can't be dead, you can't, you can't, you can't...', burrying her face and looking up, as though it would go away. "Sweetie," she said, kneeling down on her level, acting and speaking as though she could hear her. "I'm going to go look for Willow, and try to find out exactly what's going on. Thank you for keeping me company." Tara couldn't help the maternal pang of not being able to comfort the girl she might even consider a neice. The blonde, or what was left of her, anyways, stood, leaving the room through the window. Before now, she always knew how to find Willow...it was simple, a locater chant and she would turn into tiny Tinkerbell girl. But now, she couldn't, or she was pretty sure she couldn't. Luckily, she seemed to be floating, and it didn't take any energy at all to move. Even if she looked all night, she wouldn't get tired. Although, it didn't seem like it was going to take that long. She could feel that magic had been used, and the voice that rung through her was Willow's...a strange, evil twist of Willow. _

_No...._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I wanted to re-write the scene where Willow kills Warren. I had this idea that Dawn would be deceptive and Clem gullible enough for her to be there at the end. This is an AU story, though, so you won't be too angry with me...hopefully.

* * *

There was a hushed mutter among them. It was so strong, so tense, so obvious to them that it seemed even inanimate objects- trees, rocks, gravestones- were in the same agreement, the same thoughts muttering tensely though their heads. But no one said it, as though saying it might tempt mother nature to intensify the perceived punishment. _It isn't fair,_ rung through their nerves like the vibration against a church bell that causes it to chime, yet they were silent. The whole way down to Spike's lair, no one said what they were thinking.

It may have been nice to have Anya around at that time, to say some thing like; 'It really isn't fair that every body dies on us. Joyce died, then Buffy...even though she came back...and now Tara.' No one ever thought that they'd want to have Anya reciting their every thought without any form of blockade from brain to mouth. The demons left them alone. No one could quite tell why, it was almost like they could sense that they should really back off. With Dawn and Buffy being so emotionally unwound at the moment, and Buffy's almost instinctive nature to protect her little sister, they would have been nothing but scraps of paper within seconds. Whatever it was, they were out of the way.

Dawn didn't mind Clem. Okay, so she didn't know him, but he seemed to act human, and Buffy didn't mind leaving her with him. Given the current situation, he was probably the person she would come closest to trusting- like her sister kept emphasizing. She should be with some one she trusted, sure. But, at the moment, they were all either dead, evil, or busy. Always busy, though it seemed legit this time. She wanted to go.

* * *

If any of them was aware of the injustice, it was Willow. If she couldn't bring Tara bag, if she couldn't have that, then she would have the next best thing. Bloody shirt in tow, she walked- calmly- through the woods. She hadn't changed so much. If any thing, it seemed as though she had become...truer. She didn't even have to say what she wanted, only do it. "You can run, but you can't hide," she called, her voice not angry or even frantic. It was cool, calm, almost an eery sort of maternal...like a disappointed mother, a very warped, disappointed mother. "You'll only get tired," she added, continuing to walk around. To any one else, it would have looked aimless, but she knew where she was going, what she was doing. "And then you won't be as much fun to play with." she vaporized, coming up behind him where he turned around, and grabbed his throat. He struggled, making a few weak arguments she wasn't paying attention to. She maintained her grasp, not even having to shift in her position to do so.

**"Entrante,"** she barked out to the forest, and they submitted, reaching to grab the criminal by the wrists and ankles. He was terribly frightened. In their position, she towered above him, looking down. She would be sorry, he said, evoking a twisted smirk on her face. "Oh, I am sorry," she said, running a long nail up his throat, letting three of her other nails press friction against the side of his face, causing a few cuts that bled pretty badly. It was nothing serious, though; face cuts bled worse than any other cut, even when nothing was serious. "I'm sorry I didn't do this before."

"You can't do this," he was bargaining now, his voice wavering. Her smile this time was one of joy that would look innocent if not for the situation. How cute, she thought, wondering what reason he may possibly give her.

"Why?" she purred, giggling softly; "You got a wife and three beautiful kids?"

"Because," he was fumbling now, as though he hadn't expected to get this far with it. "because if you kill me, you're no better."

"I never said I wanted to be," she responded, staring blankly. "What's the matter, Warren? Little genius can't come up with an answer?" she smiled more sinisterly now, as though some thing inside her had dropped. "I'm disappointed, I thought you might make this fun."

"The guilt of killing a human being is too much for you to bare," she could tell he was so terrified at this point he might cry. That was nothing compared to what was going to happen. She would be sure to make him cry. But, for now, she was going to play with him, just a little more. Buffy was still miles off yet, she could tell. She had time.

"Oh, now? You know this?" she said, her smile falling back down into apathy, she looked angry. And focussed. "You must be experienced. Tara wasn't the first one you killed, then."

"N-n-n-n-no! No, of course I didn't, I've never---"

"You're lying," she giggled humorlessly, now in complete focus, her face not even changing to it's evil crypticness. "What to do, when I want to know so badly..." it caused him to tremble more when her nails scraped the top of his shirt. **"Reveale." **she called, offering out her hand, bringing to herself an image...no way. "You killed your own girlfriend?" she asked, not straying from the calmness but developing a cold edge that made it obvious she was angry. Well, angrier than before.

"It was an accident!" he stuttered, but the woman kept speaking, explaining the entire situation. Willow shut her eyes at it, bored as she brushed it off wordlessly, letting it disappear.

"So," the dark-haired girl began; "you tried to rape your ex-girlfriend, and when she wouldn't let you, you killed her. You beat her death, then framed Buffy." yes, that made a lot more sense now. "Then, you came into our backyard, tried to kill the Slayer, and ended up killing my girlfriend. " she was more musing it aloud to herself than trying to straighten it out with him. Every word she spoke caused more fear to shock his spine. "Yet," she proceeded, turning her hand into a fist, revealing the metal bullet she'd removed from Buffy's shoulder just earlier; "here you stand, acting as though nothing ever happened." he looked at the object, fear widening his eyes and mouth, as he didn't know what she was going to do with it. "Recognize this?" she asked, lifting it, continuing to talk- dragging it out for the terror she knew was causing him greater pain than she ever could, in his mind, soul and body. "The guilt of killing another human being would be excruciating, but what pity should I have on a monster?"

He couldn't respond. His only response was panting and squeazing his eyes open and shut, as if willing her away. How cute, she thought, he had been reduced to begging the universe for this to be a lie.

"What you are," she said; "is a monster in the body of a human. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, you know. You wanted to be evil, wanted to take over the town...all because of your own damn problems you couldn't take care of on your own. Buffy is the vampire slayer, you know? You've been trying to kill her so you can take over, but do you know how many times she's saved your sorry ass without you even knowing? Do you know that every night, she kills creatures you could never imagine, so that you- among other people- can live your lives as normal people? But yet, you wanted to kill her, because you had girlfriend problems." Willow laughed a cruel, menacing laugh, glaring at him as she did so. He was stuttering in an attempt to apologize, to tell her it was an accident. "Save it," she told him, opening the hand, revealing the bullet- a tiny piece of metal. "You couldn't handle your own problems, so you tried to kill some one to make up for it. You're not a man. You're not even fit to be called scum on the face of this earth. You are so far lower than that. This existence, this body you have, is so much more than what you deserve."

"I know that, I know that," he chanted. Oh dear, now he was crying. That was no fun, now all of the anticipation and waiting was over. She could tell he thought he might change her mind. "Let me apologize to Buffy, please,"

"What is a suitable apology for some one you tried to kill?" she snapped, growing tired of this now. The bullet floated, allowing her to drop her hand. Warren looked as though he was shocked, but she didn't allow him the chance to speak. "Did you think I would forget? Silly boy," she again looked eerily maternal, with a frightening smile on her face as she ruffled his hair. "I'm going to make sure you taste every second of what you've put them both through." the bullet entered his skin, slowly moving, slowly taking apart every thing in it's way. She continued to talk, as though absolutely nothing had been occuring. "Do you know how this toy works, little boy?" Warren looked frantically at the wound, making strained grunting sounds as it moved through so slowly, taking every thing apart. He shook his head, signaling her to laugh again. "Little boy's shouldn't play with grown-up toy's, you know. You know what it's doing? You don't, do you? But it hurts. "

"Please, don't do this," he begged, his muscles tensing crazedly, his breath becoming mere air. "Please, don't kill me, don't do this,"

She only stared at him, a rather eery smile on her face. She didn't respond. The pain grew suddenly worse, drilling deeper into him. His neck stiffened, straightening upwards and he began to scream. Not for long, until she sewed his mouth shut.

"You're so cute," she told him, causing him to abandon the pain in favor of extreme shock and even hope. "A stupid little monster, begging for his life. It's cute, I wish you could see it." she maintained the speed of the bullet, causing it to rotate now, pushing it deeper. "Where is it now, I wonder," she said, pressing her hand over the wound area, letting the blood splurge onto it. He screamed inside his own throat as his mouth never opened. "I had hoped, Warren, you might make this a little more interesting for me." she said, staring at the thick, cooling red fluid on her hand. "But, as it is....you've gotten predictable. Bored now," she jingled, and the look on his face was of pure horror. It was such a lovely picture, the skin of his body peeling upwards, into the sky. Up, up, and away. The sound of disgusted cholking rung from not far off. The dark-haired Willow turned, calmly and pleasantly, already aware of who it was.

"Hello, Dawn." she said, neither happy nor sad. Upon seeing the skin gravitating upwards, the poor girl had begun to cry again, trembling terribly. "How did you find me?" she asked, making no move to comfort her.

"I was at Spike's crypt," she stuttered, trying to keep herself in one piece but to no avail. "But he wasn't there, and I came out and heard some one yelling so I came here..."

"Buffy will be mad at you."

"I don't care," she cried; "I just wanted you to come home."

"Poor thing," Willow's voice sunk to almost-pity.

"I love you," she whined sadly; "Mom's dead, now Tara's dead, Buffy's never home, and Spike just left..." she sniffled, standing up boldly. "Don't do this any more?" she begged, her hand out. "Warren's dead...please just come home?" she wiped her face with her other shirt sleeve, Willow's face remaining in a peaceful stare. "I love you, please?"

"I love you, too, Dawnie." she said, although she wasn't loud, her voice seemed to echo. "That's why I'm not going to do that to you," she motioned towards the hanging skinless male. "Just stay out of my way."

"Willow," she demanded strongly; "this isn't you! You're not evil! You're good! You're the best person I know!" she looked so pitiful. Willow wasn't moved. She only watched, interested at the moment. "You killed Warren, and he deserved it," her eyes drifted to the skinless body, then back; "but don't kill innocent people. Don't do what he did."

"Dawnie," she smiled, sounding maternal, and she did consider extending her hand, but decided against it. "how long have you really known me? Six months? A year? For all you, or I, or any one who knows you knows, every thing you knew about me was false. Don't you remember what happened? I was on my way here, to this. I almost killed you. I almost killed myself. That only made me realize. Tara...just her existence...motivated me to continue becoming what you remember. The good person you remember me to be doesn't exist any more. She's dead."

The weight of the words made Dawn's heart sink.

"I'm sorry I had to disillusion you. I was hoping to leave things as they were. I guess that was... unrealistic." her hand went out, not to take Dawn's, but to ruffle her hair. She allowed the young teen to hug her, but didn't return the gesture.

"Without you, I'll be completely alone," she cried uncontrolably. Willow remained silent. After a small while, she said- with out looking- "Buffy and Xander are here."

"Dawn?!" Buffy demanded angrily; "What are you doing here?!" she pulled away, standing in front of Willow protectively. "I made it clear, not to come after her!" she turned to Xander, handing some thing to him. "Where's Clem?"

"He said I could come!" she fought back.

Buffy muttered some thing about having a talk with him later. "You still knew you weren't supposed to!"

"I wanted to see her!"

Buffy yanked Dawn over to her, standing her near Xander. "Can't you do any thing but cause trouble?!" she practically screamed, having Xander restrain the girl as she turned back to Willow- who was already walking away. "Willow, come with us." she said, and- at this point- she was tired of the begging and the arguing.

"I don't think I will," she smiled perkily.

"Come on. You can't do this any more, Willow. Who knows what you could cause?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to find out." she said, the wind blowing pleasantly, tangling her hair a little, blowing the bangs into her face.

"We want to help you," Xander tried, Dawn not even struggling. He had a strong grip.

"I'm afraid you can't," she replied cryptically; "I've already turned. I suppose that makes us rivals now." she seemed almost sad at that. "I'll see you later," she said, her body slowly vaporizing, and before she was completely gone, she said; "Oh, Dawn, before I go- you really are the loveliest shade of green." the addressed girl lifted her head, eyes widening; "I may turn you back into that crackling orb of energy, if you try to get in my way again." her voice remained gentle and unthreatening. And then the last of her was gone.

* * *

"I told you, Dawn," Buffy demanded, pulling her sister by the shoulder; "not to come out here!" she practically threw her sister into the crypt where Clem was still sitting, eating some snacks they figured he must have replenished.

"Back already, Buffy?" he asked, innocently- fearlessly. "I have some chips and popcorn, would you like some?"

"Actually Clem, the only thing I would like is to know why my little sister is out running the town when I left her in your care." she stopped a moment, then added; "And maybe some gingerale,"

"Seconded on the gingerale," Xander said, remaining fairly well quiet- inside his own mind, trying not to lose whatever might be left in his stomach.

"Well," Clem began, standing to go see if there was any gingerale; "Dawn told me she wanted to see Willow, your witch friend. I wasn't really sure what was going on, but since I thought they got along pretty well, I didn't see a reason why she couldn't."

"I see," Buffy sighed, glaring at her sister. "Dawn, you are going to be in so much trouble when this is over--!"

"Take it easy on her, Buff." Xander intervened on the teen's behalf. "They were really close, Willow was...it was bigger than family. To Dawn. You wouldn't have wanted to just sit on the sidelines, either."

"But I'm the slayer, Xander."

"So?" he retorted, holding his stomach. "I'm not, but you didn't make me wait on stand-by."

"You are an adult!" she practically screeched at this point; "And what's more, you're not my responsibility!"

"Are you telling me that if I died, you wouldn't feel the least bit responsible?" Buffy remained silent. Clem re-entered the room with two glasses of gingerale.

"There you guys go," he said. "I'm sorry about Dawn, I just-"

"No, it's not your fault. I should have figured she would do some thing like that. I should have told you what was going on. But don't let her out of here alone, okay? She could be in trouble. None of us really know what's going to happen next."

She chugged the drink down while Xander nursed it. As she handed the drink back to Clem, he nodded a thank-you and said; "You can keep the glass, it isn't mine," and took the one given back into the kitchen. Buffy watched just for a moment when Clem sat down on the couch next to Dawn, who had taken to a rather lifeless stare with tears streaming down her face. "Come on, don't cry," he begged; "I don't know what to do when you cry," and then Xander grabbed Buffy's arm, pulling her out.


	3. Chapter 3

Willow shouldn't have been as surprised as she was to wake up in a good mood. Since coming back from a very relaxing trip in England with Giles, her friends had some how found it possible within themselves to forgive her and she even got her old room back. The blood had been cleaned out of the carpet, or more likely it had been re-carpeted, but she had sat in that place for days, running her hand over the spot where the blood would be if they hadn't. Like she couldn't believe it just wasn't there any more. None of them held a grudge. They were a little cautious, but she expected that, and they were far less skiddish than she expected them to be- with Dawn and Xander still coming in to tell her good morning and each of them insisting that they didn't forget her when making breakfast. In the past few weeks, they'd even let her drive Dawn to school a couple of times, and the teen had just sat and chatted senselessly- like nothing had ever happened. She had killed a human being and they still opened up the door into their home.

_"...you're kidding." _Buffy had said when it was brought up. _"Think of every thing that's ever happened with us, Will. Like not a single one of us has ever tried to kill you. "_

_"Yeah, just don't do it again."_ Xander mentioned jokingly; _"It gets kind of old after the first time."_

They were trying to accept her. Let her back in. Acting as though nothing had ever happened. Was that forgiveness? But still, perhaps her good mood was related to some thing else.

Willow had always been smart. The things she could do with a computer would stun, shock and amaze the people around her. It was almost like she had fused into the computer. Things like robotics and mechanics came naturally. She knew every gear, every motion, every sensor, and how they must be placed. Even before she was a witch, this was the magic she could create. And even without magic, she could do it. That had been her goal, to do it without magic. And she almost had. The skeleton had been built, and every organ fitted to it's proper place. It would do such things as a human would; eat, sleep. She would be different from every robot ever created. Willow had programmed every thing into the brain; vocabulary, eye sensors, ear sensors, replies, nerves in her body. Just like Buffybot, she would be programmed to return to Willow if she was ever injured. All she had to do was work out a few kinks, and turn it on. She never expected that she was in a good mood because perhaps she wasn't entirely alone in this room...

_"When you get in trouble, and you don't know right from wrong~"_

When did that song get stuck in her head? "Give a little whistle! Give a little whistle~" she opened her closet door, grabbing a wrench she had put there for convenience. It was odd to use instruments like that on some thing...some _one..._ so human. "When you meet temptation and the urge is very strong,"

_"Give a little whistle! Give a little whistle~"_

"Not just a little squeak, pucker up and blow," she found herself laughing at...well, herself. "And if you're whistle's weak, just yell..?"

_"Jiminy Cricket?!" _

"Take the straight and narrow path, and if you start to slide, give a little whistle!"

_"Give a little whistle! And always let your conscience be your guide!"_

"Well, looks like some one's in a chipper, sunshiney mood today." Buffy's rather amused, semi-sarcastic tone rung from behind her. Willow panicked to stand, grabbing a shirt randomly to look as though she had been looking for some thing in there and casually shut the door.

The redhead tried not to look as though she was being accused, but she couldn't help it. What was she doing in a good mood, any ways? "Yeah, sorry..." she managed, somewhat quietly.

"You're in a good mood and...you're....sorry?" Buffy didn't look entirely confused, more...good-humored. "Some one in this house has to be, we've been having a miserable time so far while you were up here....serenading....your closet."

"You want me to come down and help?"

"Yes. Please." she turned, pausing for a second and- without turning around, said; "Since when do you need to ask?"

It wasn't fair that they were just acting like nothing happened. She was sure she deserved a large deal more of a grudge, or...some thing. But how can you say some thing like 'I think you guys are being too nice to me'? Willow shut the door, quickly changing into whatever shirt she'd grabbed and a pair of jeans that were easy to find so she could just get out and see how she could help. It was the absolute least she could do, after all.

"Alright, what's going on?" she asked whoever might answer downstairs. Although, she could see partly what was going on; Anya was doing one thing or another next to Xander in the kitchen, the pancakes had burnt, they were talking and sounding rather bitter but not raising their voices, and...where was Buffy? She looked around, but only one thing could answer her question- the screaming in...the bathroom.

She just sighed, walking towards it only to see a rather intense sister-fight going on. Over...a shirt.

"Dawn, I told you to get your stuff out last night! We're going to be late!"

"I had it out! You took it!"

"Why would I take it?"

"I don't know! I'm not a devious criminal!"

"Do I even need to coment on that one?"

Hm...how could a Willow possibly break up this kind of fight? "Hey guys, I know a spell--"

As expected, they both turned her direction at once, saying "No." in a flat, firm, unison.

It didn't occur to her until afterwards that...well, it was a little mean. "Sorry," she said, smiling sheepishly; "I was trying to get your attention. And now that I've got it, Dawn, you can't go to school topless so I'll help you find a shirt. Buffy, I'll drive her to school, and there's cereal in the pantry if she doesn't want to eat pancake ashes off a plate." the blonde couldn't respond before Dawn had ducked out of the bathroom and the two were running upstairs to find clothing. That left her open to deal with the Xander-Anya-pancake issue they seemed to be having.

After a little squabble about the shirt, Willow managed to get Dawn in some decent clothes and run her downstairs with enough time to get some cereal before they ran out the door, Willow taking the responsibility since Buffy and Anya couldn't and Xander didn't seem to be available.The teen was even on time, if you can imagine that. She drove back and went in to see that the pancakes had either been stomached by some one or thrown out, the burnt smell was gone, and Xander was the only person left in the house. She wanted to go upstairs, but the poor guy looked like he could use some company.

"Xander?" she said, opening the fridge to get the milk out; she hadn't eaten yet, either.

"Hm?" he replied, less than half-heartedly.

"I thought some one should point out that it's only 8 in the morning and you're drinking by yourself." she poured a bowl of cereal and milk, put the milk away and walked into the living room. "Don't you have a job or some thing?"

"I'm off today,"

"How come?"

"We finished the last project and they're trying to wrap it up. Paperwork. "

Willow set her bowl down, hesitantlywrapping an arm around his shoulder. She didn't know if she should really do it, considering every thing that had happened, but she was the only one around to ar it and he deserved to have some comfort at least. "Do you want me to say some thing now?" she asked gently.

"If there's some thing you want to say."

"Maybe you should apologize to her."

"How do you apologize for what I did to her?"

"It's easy. You open your mouth and say 'I'm sorry.'"

"Will, she knows it. She's gotta know it."

"But maybe it would help her if you open your mouth and say it." there was a little bit of silence in which Xander set the bottle of beer down, only half-drunk, and sat back, letting her hug him. "Xander?"

"Yes?"

She hugged him as tight as she could, only saying; "I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure what exactly it was that she was apologizing for, but whatever it was, he forgave her, returning the hug; "It's okay."

* * *

Xander eventually left, said he could probably find some thing to do. Willow hoped that he would stay out of trouble. But trouble might just find any one of them at any moment, and he obviously hadn't wanted her company. She convinced herself he would be fine and returned to the work she'd been creating. The house was quiet and lonely on days she didn't have class to go to. Not that she didn't have enough homework to do. She had to shake the thoughts that started flooding her head away, but the saddening thoughts actually served to make her happier. She tried not to think about it any further, though.

When it came to robotics, the smallest, simplest problems to fix could take hours. They were simple, but time consuming. By the time she had finished, every one (except Anya, of course) had come back. But she was finished, which meant that all she had to do was turn it on and see if it worked. That she would have to save for later, as Buffy was calling for her down the stairs. Willow made sure she was free of any thing that might look like she had been doing some thing other than reading, and ran down quickly. Help make dinner- definitely some thing she could do. She opened up the fridge and, in all honesty, just picked some thing cookable and got to work. Dinner was ready shortly and it seemed whatever craziness was going on decided to settle itself down long enough for them to eat.

"So, Dawn, how was school today?"

"Fine." she replied. A one-word answer that wasn't entirely normal for the teen.

"Nothing exciting happen?"

"I fell down a flight of stairs."

Willow was glad Dawn's outfit had consisted of jeans. "Oh, no! Did you get hurt?"

"No," she said sarcastically, obviously irritated by some thing; "it was the fun kind of falling down stairs." Dawn was a lot like her sister in that she got sarcastic when she was irritated. Seeming to realize what she was doing, though, she added; "I'm fine now, though."

"How about you, Buffy?"

"Oh, the usual." she said in a far more upbeat way than Dawn had added. "Troubled teens. I think I've heard my fill of...certain things...though." she proceeded to eat, as though she wasn't at all as bothered as she...seemed? she was.

"I understand." the redhead laughed. "Hey, Dawnie, how did you fall down the stairs?"

The girl hesitated. "I fell."

"Actually," Xander piped in; "some one pushed her."

"Xander! ...Hey, how did you know?"

"Do you want the honest truth? I had nothing better to do."

Silence. It seemed like it had been a bad day for every one. Willow decided not to talk any more, as it seemed to make every one even more upset. No one minded the silence at all, surely. The rest of dinner was quiet, Buffy did dishes and they did the usual steps of winding down for the day. Eventually, they all landed on the couch for a break.

"You guys," Willow tried, hoping maybe her good news would spread some cheer and crazy with anticipation; "I have some thing I've been working on and I want to show you."

"Okay, what?" Buffy was at least putting forth effort into sounding cheerful.

"I'll be right back," and, at that, she practically ran up the stairs- taking at least two at a time. The trip to her bedroom felt like a journey of a thousand miles. If she could have teleported there, it wouldn't have been fast enough. But at last she was there, approaching the sleeping machine. All she had to do was flip a switch, which she didn't hesitate in doing. Neck lifted, eyes opened, Willow watched in a nervous awe.

"Good morning," it finally said, much to her complete relief.

"It's not morning, but that's alright, you just woke up." she placed her hand inside the closet, and the figure's hand grabbed her's. "I want my friends to see you."

The robot didn't speak, only followed her down the stairs- into the light, where she could be seen.

"Tara!" Dawn clutzily stood up off the couch. Actually, Buffy had as well- and Xander. "Willow, how did you do this?"

"Did you use magic?" they all seemed panicked.

"Guys, no." she laughed; "I actually did this with out magic. She's a robot."

"Good morning, every one. Buffy, Xander, Dawn." she said, looking at each as she said their names; "I'm right, right?"

Willow nodded. "Yes, you did a very good job."

No one was quite sure of what to say, or even think or feel. Was it a good thing? Or a bad thing? What did it mean?

"You did a great job building her, Wil." Buffy finally commented. "She's not annoying or creepily chipper, like the one's Warren made."

"She isn't dangerous, is she?" Xander questioned, clearly a bit more freaked out than he wanted to let on.

"Nope, not at all."

"Can she make pancakes?"

"Sure, Dawnie."

"Initiating pancake sequence--"

"Deactivate. Not right now, in the morning."

"What time of day is it?" it was the first thing she said on her own.

"It's night. It's going to be time for us to go to bed soon."

Xander spoke next. "You really built this from scratch, huh?" he said, looking the robot up and down. She looked so real, sounded so real. Willow must have taken straight days to program her voice to be exactly like the original Tara. "It's really good," was all he was able to say. "But I have to get home. I'll see you all...probably some time soon." he walked to the door, waving slightly to say goodbye.

"You did do a good job building her, Wil. And hey, we could use the extra hands around the house." the blonde had to bite her tongue to keep from expressing her fears over the redhead's mentality. She would have to contact Giles about it the next day. "But, Dawn and I should get to bed." the blonde hugged her friend, as did Dawn, both muttering good night as they went upstairs. Willow was unsure of their reactions, but didn't care; her bed wouldn't feel so empty any more.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, I got a review from some one...but there was no 'reply' URL. To whoever 'AmongsttheTrees' is, yes, Tara is the voice of reason, at least at first. There will be a big explanation later. I promise.

It didn't take long for Willow to realize that there were...drawbacks. For one thing, the robot didn't have that cute little squeak when she was falling asleep. For another, they couldn't talk while they were falling asleep. The robot was either awake or asleep, more to the effect of "on" or "off." There was nothing in between. She didn't dream. She never stuttered (or babbled, for that matter), or messed up her words. She couldn't sing. But, on the bright side, she did make pretty good pancakes.

One week from her 'birthday' (Willow had been calling it that because there were so few words to explain it). Nothing had really changed. "Tarabot", as the rest of them had come accustomed to calling her, was a good listener. She had great memory. She never forgot any thing, and could quote back to you the date, time, and exact words you said. But she agreed with Willow on...just about every thing. Well, the redhead had decided at some point, that every one has their flaws. It was nice not to have to lay in bed alone with the panic and guilt turning the very blood in your veins into ice. Even if they were silent nights, they were nights spent together.

Kind of.

"Good morning," Willow kind of managed, though she was unsure of what time it really was. It was Saturday, they'd been up all night, and she didn't have any thing pressing to be up for today.

"It is 12:13:46 o'clock."

"Thanks," she joked, turning over.

"You're welcome." responded the humanoid, no trace of joking in her tone.

Willow, finally motivating herself to get up, changed her clothes. She giggled a little to herself, but Tara's expression remained blank. Feeling awkward for no real reason, she rushed through getting her clothes on and threw the PJs in the hamper.

The rest of the house was even less lively. Dawn seemed to be the only one awake, and only just barely so- staring into her bowl of cereal listlessly like any other over-slept teen.

"Mornin', Dawn." Willow managed, uneasily, still a little unsure of how to act towards them. "Or afternoon," she cut in, laughing lightly before the robot could correct her.

"Good morning," she groaned in response, drawling it out.

"Good afternoon, Dawn." the robot said kindly, sitting down at the table.

"Do you want some thing to eat, Tara?"

"No, thank you."

Willow waited. Any comment about eggs, any minor inside joke...but nothing. The robot only sat and, seeming to take the girl's staring as a question, said; "I am not hungry this morning." the redhead bit her lip. Of course she wasn't hungry this morning.

Breakfast was quiet, if you could even call it breakfast. Buffy got up at some time later, and announced there was a missed call from Giles. Since no one seemed to be able to get a hold of him, they each returned to their own devices...Dawn got a hold of her friends and went out to go do some thing with them, Buffy watched TV, and Willow decided to head down to the Magic Box. Anya might let them help out for a while. Anya had been quite surprised to see the robot walking around and, unlike Buffy, merely said what she was thinking;

"Willow, you know this robot isn't really Tara?"

"Of course I know," she laughed oddly.

"You keep calling her Tara. She isn't Tara, she's very different."

Willow tried to pretend the words didn't burn like fire. "Why are you saying this?"

"Your mental health, Willow. When you went off the deep end you nearly destroyed the entire world. Now you have a nice little...representation...of Tara, but you have to accept that she's dead. Either that or we could have World War 3 all over again, and I'm all for...well, not World War 3."

"Thanks, Anya." she grumbled sarcastically, observing the robot's actions. Alphabetizing the books on the shelf. She smiled a little- finally, some thing that would make her feel like every thing was okay. Tara always alphabetized the bookshelf when there was nothing else to do.

"You're welcome." Anya seemed very pleased with herself, then returned to watching customers come in and out.

Anya made little effort to contact Willow for the rest of the day after that- mainly because she was busy shooing out customers who weren't buying any thing and taking care of customers who were. No matter what any one said to her, she didn't seem to care that it was rude to shoo people away. Willow no longer cared to correct her, and neither did the robot. At the end, however, Anya made a point of thanking Willow and 'Tarabot' for their help, and made sure to include they wouldn't be getting paid. The redhead didn't care much but to think she had wasted the day. Then again, she supposed she would have wasted it just as much sitting at home on the couch.

Willow was far more tired walking into the house than she'd expected. The blonde robot followed behind her, seeming almost concerned that she may fall over, though she honestly wasn't that exhausted. Unfortunately, when she did get in, the whole group was sitting together; Dawn, Xander, Buffy...even Anya was there. It felt empty seeing them together with out Giles.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" she asked, trying to get any kind of energy boost going. They didn't appear to be in party-mode, which generally meant there was some kind of attack going on.

"The usual, Wil." Xander replied. "Dawn was walking home, and got attacked..."

"I told you not to come home after dark," Buffy scolded.

"She doesn't look like she was bitten too badly," the redhead mentioned, given that she was still sitting there and seemed absolutely fine. Xander was patting the area with gauze, Dawn blinking furiously to keep from crying or what ever she thought she might do.

"For the thousandth time," she growled; "it was not my fault! It wasn't even completely dark yet!"

"Early bird," Xander muttered, having his hand promptly slapped; whether it was out of frustration or sudden pain was unclear. Finally done tormenting the girl, he placed a few layers of gauze over the wound, using some First-Aid tape to keep it from moving.

"So, I'm patroling." the blonde felt the desire to announce. Willow felt it should at least seem more serious, with Dawn having been hurt.

"How did you get away?" the robot questioned, pitch and tone curving to fit that of a question, though she didn't really look curious in the least. Her expression hadn't changed at all.

"Spike showed up," she replied, not seeming all that eager to talk. She was probably tired. "The one who bit me screamed about me being an imposter and ran off."

"We should go with her." Willow's heart skipped in secret excitement when Tara seemed to be speaking directly to her. She fought to remain calm, especially considering what Anya had said earlier.

"Okay." she agreed, unable to help put an arm around her. The bot's expression didn't change when she kissed her cheek, but Willow could not have cared less right then. Every one else seemed to be intentionally silent, looking around, fishing for any thing else in their heads they might say. Thankfully, Anya had been so busy staring at Xander (it wasn't obvious if it was out of anger or captivation, to be quite honest) she hadn't noticed, or Willow would be catching level two of hell.

"I'm leaving now," Buffy's feathers were clearly ruffled over her sister having been put in danger. "Xander, can you keep an eye on her?"

He looked around nervously, glancing at Anya, then finally nodded. "Sure, I can hang out here until you guys get back."

Buffy nodded, leading the trio back out. Willow wondered what might happen between the two; she hoped it would be wonderful, whatever it was. She couldn't remember feeling that way, not for a long time. Or at least, it felt as though it had been too long. Her hand latched onto Tara's, and- though the robot barely moved to see who it was- she breathed a sigh of relief.

Excusing all puns, the hunt was rather...dead. That was, at least at the south side of town. Buffy had told them to get the south and east, and she would get the north and west sides. Willow was glad Tara was directionally inclined; she certainly wasn't- though hearing their exact latitude and longitude got annoying at times. She didn't notice her robot had disappeared until she realized she was lost, and didn't hear the annoying ring of their exact location.

"Hello?" she called, concerned, turning around. She half-expected to bump into her, but there was nothing. "Hello?!" it was dangerous to get lost in the middle of the night in this town. "Tara!" she looked around, seeing nothing but blackness. Come on, she had to have some kind of light...she dug in her pocket; lighter? Flash light? Cell phone! Okay, that would work. She picked the cross necklace up out from inside and used the cell phone for light to look around. A tree branch snapped right next to her, and after some manuevering, she located the source of the sound; a hunch-backed vampire? No, he was bending over...

"_Discessum_!"

The familiar sound alerted Willow to what exactly was going on. Tara had probably gotten lost or some thing, and was being attacked. She saw the vampire move, saw sparks fly, and the robot repeated herself- to no avail. Nothing was happening. Well, she wasn't just going to stand there and let it happen- she pocketed her cell phone, keeping their location in mind and lunged- burning it on the back of the neck with the cross. She wondered briefly why she had never given Tara one, and vowed to do so once they were out of this. Then she pushed him against a tree where a branch stuck out, piercing his heart; it fell to dust instantly, crumbling between her fingers.

Her face turned back to the blonde, who had a nasty cut on her arm. Sparks that flew out instead of blood had probably also burned the vampire, and shocked him when he realized she didn't have blood. Willow, for a moment, was just as shocked. She was both panicked and relieved to see her, though Tara didn't seem any more disturbed than she had been only a few moments ago.

"When you said that spell, nothing happened." she said, more to assert the fact to herself than for any other reason, though that fact went unnoticed.

"Some thing was supposed to happen?" she questioned, then looked at her arm where there were slash marks. "I've been injured."

"Yeah," she sighed, exhausted; "I'll fix it. Come on, let's go home." she extended her hand, and it took the other female a few seconds before she realized she was supposed to take it. She finally did. The trip home was quiet and uneventful- until Tara decided to speak again.

"Am I going to die?"

It upset Willow more than it should. She didn't realize she had clenched her first until she heard the other girl whisper "Ow"- though she didn't seem to have the good sense to pull away.

"No." she breathed, calming herself. "You are not going to die."

She didn't say any more after that.


End file.
